I Have Nothing
by Stelena-Beautiful
Summary: In this AR story, Ezra is on the A-Team but there is no book. His motivations for approaching Aria that fateful day in the college bar are very different. But either way, he is still definitely betraying Aria. Can she ever forgive him? Read on to find out. Rated T (for now).


**I Have Nothing**

_**An AR Ezria Tale.**_

**Other (minor) couples: Hannah/Travis, Spencer/Toby and Emily/Maya.**

**Note: **Ezra's motivations for being on the A-Team are completely different than canon. There is no book; there is just a revenge plot that some how goes awry when Ezra falls for his prey. Takes place in Season 1, but not.

**Preface**

In the days to come it would be debatable about who had come onto whom first but there was no denying that the first moment he spoke to her, it was premeditated. He just hadn't expected it to go as far as it had.

He'd spotted her looking at the "Alison poster", a sad and anxious expression on her too-pretty face. That was his opening but again, he hadn't expected things to go down like this.

He had planned to just strike up a conversation with her, get her talking, maybe exchange phone numbers and a kiss. _Maybe_ a kiss. _Possibly._ He wasn't one too move to fast, even when his very sanity depended on it – even when he wanted nothing more in the world than to get lost in the feeling of brushing his lips across her plump, ruby ones.

He didn't exactly remember how they came to be in the bathroom of the bar but there they were. He lifted her onto the sink and her legs came to wind around his hips. There was little hesitation in kissing her. He should have hesitated, maybe, but it seemed impossible with her sitting there looking so damn beautiful. He'd only ever seen her in photographs but up close and personal… She was radiant, _intoxicating._ It was impossible to think of his pain, his bleeding, dark, secret heart, when she was looking at him that way. So he went in for another kiss and still another. Their lips fit together just right.

His hands came to grip her trim thighs as she cupped his face in her tiny hands. They never stopped kissing as he eased up her skirt and she arched back a bit to allow him access to her secret treasures. His hands found her heat and he discovered her panties were damp. She was full of desire and it was more than reciprocated.

They coupled twice – the first time was fast and feverish, the second slower, more explorative. They didn't exchange names or phone numbers afterwards and he was okay with that. He would see her soon enough anyway; he knew that, and in hindsight it made more sense to just be that man of mystery she had encountered one hot afternoon in a college bar.

He wanted to walk her to her car. It seemed like the right thing to do despite the wrong of what he had just done, but she begged off. She offered him a little smile and then was gone. His fingers came up to his lips as if by their own volition. They were puffy and swollen. It was kind of poetic, really. Tragic. Something people might write about someday. He didn't want to make the news though; he thought then that he just wanted to make them pay. Vengeance was all he knew, all he understood. He had practically been suckled on that nasty, bitter feeling from birth. No matter how tempting or enticing the girl was, he could not be swayed from his mission, from his purpose…

XoXoXo

He had made sure weeks before - with a little help from his friends (minions) - that she would be placed in his class. When their eyes met across the crowded room full of students, he almost looked away. He almost couldn't do it – he almost couldn't keep up the ruse. But he reminded himself that this was how it was supposed to be, how it was destined to be. She was a means to an end – a girl with Daddy issues and a broken heart, ripe for the picking. The perfect pawn, the perfect prey.

The "holy crap" he uttered seemed unrehearsed and natural. The script he had been rehearsing in his head for years made it easier to lie, but not easier to forget how he would ultimately end up hurting her.

Her phone jangled to life. He saw her eyes shift away from him and to the phone which she quickly dashed out of her bag. He watched some of the color in her cheeks disappear as she read the message. He knew exactly what it said. He knew every facet of this – what should he call it? – _operation._ (That made it all sound so James Bond but honestly he hated those movies, hated the books too.)

She would be reading the message: _Aria: Maybe he fools around with students all of the time. A lot of teachers do. Just ask your dad. -A_

And she'd probably be feeling a mixture of upset stomach and breathlessness. Not to mention nervousness. She had to be thinking how - how anyone could know what had happened between the two of them in a deserted bathroom? Oh if she only knew… But she wouldn't know for some time and by then, it would be too late for the both of them.


End file.
